


You've Got Mail

by kleineelch



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 09:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3973357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleineelch/pseuds/kleineelch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric and Cassandra become unknowing pen-pals while finding each other utterly annoying in real life. Underscored with a murder mystery, the two learn to like each other and perhaps even fall a little bit in love. Written for the DA Big-Bang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My love of silly, cliche romance tropes found its natural home in this story, whose plot I liberally borrowed from the marvelous movies "You've Got Mail" and "Shop Around the Corner" AND "In The Good Old Summertime" (which are all really the same story, different setting). I had a blast writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

_The 6th of Cloudreach; 9:40_

 

“Care to tell me what this is Hawke?”

 

The grin on her face said everything, and Varric brought his hand to rub at his temple. The sun was streaming through the front windows of the Skyhold Cafe; an errant beam illuminating a sealed letter on the table, with sharp slanted writing addressing it to a “ _Rogue_.”

 

“You remember that one night where we went out to celebrate with our new hire?” Hawke ran her finger around the edge of her coffee cup.

 

“No, not particularly.”

 

“Unsurprising, since it was also the day you found out about, ah, your...friend.” The friend he still harbored feelings for, who left him for another man, and shattered his heart in the process? Not his best choice for a friend, Varric would have to admit. He pushed the letter around the table with a finger, treating it as if it were poison and not a simple envelope.

 

“Are you going to tell me the story or will I need to drag out Lavellan to get the story from her?”

 

“Oh she’d remember even less than you. Anyways, you were adamantly saying, well, shouting, that you were sick off all this ‘ _stupid dating bullshit_ ,’”  Hawke made exaggerated air quotes as Varric rolled his eyes, “And you ‘ _Wanted to go back to that romance bullshit with letters and flowers and Maker damned intrigue_.’”

 

“Did I really say all that? I doubt I did.” Varric took a drink of his coffee that had become lukewarm as their conversation dragged on. He should be writing, not talking about his love life, or lack thereof.

 

“Dorian may have got it on video. I’ll ask him when he comes in.” Hawke said before laughing at Varric’s horrified face. “I dragged you home after that, and you made me take down a letter to be put onto some dating website and this is the result.”

 

Varric opened his mouth to say what he thought of this whole situation, but then shut it. He couldn’t deny that what Hawke said (what _he_ said apparently) was true, and deep down he needed to get his act together and forget about what he couldn’t have. In any case, it was bad for his writing. No way he could write his next action-packed novel if he was moping over some woman. That worked better for his romance series anyways, and that was going even worse than the other.

 

In his silence, Hawke had leaned back in her chair and watched him with a calculating look. “So, are you going to open that letter?”

 

He plucked the letter up from the table, appraising it before he looked back to Hawke. “If this is some lunatic writing to me, I’m never going to forgive you.”

 

“Promises promises.” Hawke waved a hand as Varric tore into the letter as gingerly as possible, careful to not damage the contents, wondering who would be sad enough to write to someone who posted a letter looking for companionship. Or worse, how sad was he that the letter seemed like his only lifeline to forgetting about Bianca?

 

“How are they getting me these letters?” He asked, unfolding the paper and smoothing the crease out with some deliberation, in no hurry to read what may be ramblings of a mad woman.

 

“Secret post office box I have for more...discrete uses.” The cough she gave following confirmed Varric’s suspicion that it had to do with Anders more outspoken activities.

 

“I’m glad that it’s getting some use helping out your sorry friend Varric then.” _No use putting it off any more_ , Varric thought as he picked up the letter and began to read.

 

|||

 

_**1st of Cloudreach; 9:42** _

__

_**Dear Rogue,** _

__

_**I can not fathom why I am writing this letter right now, as we have never met and the ad in the paper was a horrific mess of poor grammar and misspellings, but here we are. As I'm sure you'll blame it on whatever you were drinking that night, I'll do the same. What interested me was your insistence that the concept of romance was dead and that letters are a lost art. I found myself agreeing with you on that point, as I wrote letters often when I was younger, and now, not so much.** _

__

_**That isn’t the point of this letter, though. The point is to see if you are more than an ad that promised, in some interesting turns of phrases, “a good time.”** _

__

_**I will begin by telling you about myself, in vague terms. I do not want some lunatic showing up on my doorstep with intimate knowledge about me. I enjoy an active lifestyle, reading, and the occasional glass of wine. I prefer dogs to cats and my favorite color is red.** _

__

_**I guess...I don’t know what else to say. It is hard to have a conversation with someone you have never met. Perhaps you will have more of an idea in your response.** _

__

_**Sincerely,** _

_**Seeker** _

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

_**13th of Solace; 9:42** _

__

_**Seeker,** _

__

_**Good timing on your last letter. Got some news about work that made me want to tear my hair out. And not just my beautiful flowing locks, but my impressive chest hair as well. Believe me Seeker, that is a loss to the world. I am glad to hear that your job fares better, though I wish you could give me more than just 'dealt with another problem for the city.' Makes you seem like a politician. A scary politician.** _

__

_**I know, I know, we agreed to keep things vague. Learning about you through these letters has been a delightful challenge, and I hope you are getting some enjoyment out of it as well. Of course, I'm more free with what I say (chocolate cake is my favorite dessert, for example), but this mystery we have between us, well, I find myself enjoying the longer it goes on. It shouldn't last, but that's another letter down the line (I'm a proficient archer, whoops, another fact slipped out!)** _

__

_**Back to business now Seeker. You asked me for some book recommendations for you. Now I'm not sure what you think of mysteries, but there's a series I think you might like. Pick up ‘** Hard in Hightown’ **and let me know what you think. I’m very interested to hear what you have to say. I personally think it’s one of the better serials out there, but I haven’t read your recommendation of ‘** Templar Nights **’ and I will trust you won’t lead me astray.**_

__

_**Alright, new question. If you could go anywhere, where would you go? No cheating and saying “to the pub,” because that’s what I plan to write and no copying. Alright?** _

__

_**Until next time Seeker.** _

__

_**Rogue** _

 

|||

 

_Another day and another chapter written_ , Varric thought as he leaned back in his chair, letting a grin break over his face. His publisher would be pleased with the rate he was getting the story brought together, and it was thanks in part to the Seeker. It had been a few months since they had started writing to each other, but their weekly correspondence was doing wonders for his mood. There was something about the writers dry wit and tendency to write with passion over many different topics that inspired Varric. In fact, he thought with no small amount of excitement, another letter should be arriving for him this afternoon. _Perhaps a slice of cake would help pass the time. It’s not a pint, but in a cafe…_

 

Making his way from his usual table towards the counter, Varric took note of the other patrons, few as they were. At one table sat a man furiously scribbling into a notebook, another held two elves who were tittering over something they had been discussing, and a couple other people milling about, waiting for their order to be served. It was in the sleepy sounds of the cafe that the door opening fast enough to bang against the wall startled just about everyone into a brief silence.

 

The two people that entered looked as if they were on a mission, and Varric would bet it was not going to end well for the poor sap they were looking for. Making his way to the counter, he leaned over and grinned at Lavellan, who had placed the waiting customers orders in front of them. “Roisin, my dear, I think I need to try your cake of the day. And another coffee if you don’t mind.” He said with a wink. She tucked a strand of copper hair behind her ear and gave him a shy smile.

 

“Will that be all Mr. Tethras?”

 

“How many times do I have to tell you that Varric is just fine? Mr. Tethras is my-”

 

“Varric? Varric Tethras?” An accented voice questioned from behind him, causing Varric to glance back and then up at the woman standing behind him. She was dressed in a leather jacket and neatly pressed slacks, the image of professionalism.The woman, he realized, who had come in with a scowl, eyes darting about as if searching for someone. _Ah shit…_

 

“The one and only.” He inclined his head before turning back to Roisin, hoping the woman would fangirl out a little and then leave him be. If only he was so lucky.

 

“Mr. Tethras, me and my partner will need to speak with you.” The woman continued on, now moving to his side so she could not be ignored any longer.

 

“Look, if you’re fans, great, but I think you should really wait until a signing or-”

 

“There have been some crimes committed that correspond with those written in your novels. We are here to talk with you about them.” The woman interrupted his statement, her face drawn into a frown. “May we speak with you?”

 

Varric waved to Roisin who was looking concerned at the news that had just been revealed. “I’ll take the food at my table then Rosie. This won’t take long I’m sure.” She nodded and looked at the other two people.

 

“C-Can I get you two anything?” Her voice was shaky as she looked from the frowning woman to the man who seemed to have realized someone else was behind the counter. He opened his mouth to respond, but the woman shook her head sharply.

 

“No thank you. Cullen,” he closed his mouth, “Later.” Cullen nodded as they moved to where Varric had been sitting prior to their arrival. Varric was amused to see the officer glance back to Roisin as they walked to the table, tripping over a chair as they arrived. The woman let out a snort and shook her head. They sat down around the table, Varric shuffling some papers and his computer to the side.

 

“So, what can I do for you…?” He looked between the two, eyebrow raised.

 

“I am Detective Cassandra Pentaghast and this is my partner Cullen Rutherford. We have been following a recent wave of crimes that seem to have correspondence with crimes in novels. Yours in particular.”

 

“My novels?” Varric snorted. “I can tell you this is the first I’ve heard about it. Most people wouldn’t use my works as a ‘How to’ for crime.”

 

“Unfortunately, we are not dealing with most people, Mr. Tethras.” Cassandra scowled, crossing her arms across her chest, her brown eyes narrowing. “Whoever is behind this is becoming increasingly dangerous, if the timeline is correct.”

 

“Timeline?”

 

“We’ve taken a look through your books.” Cullen took over, his voice calm. The way he sat made Varric think he was obviously playing ‘ _the good cop_ ’  “The crimes committed so far seem to take place near the beginning, before a larger crime takes place. If he is following any sort of pattern, it would seem his next move is, well, murder.”

 

The silence following Cullen’s words was filled with the sound of the cafe around them. Varric let out a snort. “Right, so, is this some sort of joke? Did Hawke put you up to this?”

 

“Joke?” Cassandra asked, surprised, her eyebrows raising toward her hairline. “Why would we joke about something like this?”

 

“Come on, my novels are lowbrow detective works. Any moron with a brain could probably commit these crimes on their own. Hell, _Hard in Hightown_ steals liberally from four other works, and I’m probably forgetting some.” Varric leaned back in his chair, watching as Cassandra’s face began to turn an interesting shade of red. He could see Roisin hovering in his peripheral, waiting for a good time to interrupt. “Now, if you have nothing else to say, I think I will return to my writing. Deadline coming up and all.”

 

Cassandra looked as if she wanted to give him a piece of her mind, but Cullen nodded and placed a hand on Cassandra’s arm. “If it’s alright with you, we may be in contact at a later time. In case this progresses any further.”

 

Varric held up his hands, trying to placate the two detectives who made their way to their feet. “Do what you must, but there is no way that this will go much further. Anyone who uses my books as a guide in how to commit a crime is shooting themselves in the foot anyway.” He winked at Cassandra who flushed even darker. “Take care Detectives Pentaghast and Rutherford. I hope to not see you again.”

 

Before she could say anything more, Cullen pulled her away, narrowly missing Roisin who had made her way to Varric’s table. He watched as Cassandra stormed out, leaving Cullen to apologize to Roisin. Varric noted with some amusement the blush that appeared on the detectives cheeks as he stammered out an apology before he too left the cafe.

 

“Is everything alright Mr. Tethras?” Roisin asked as she set his drink and cake in front of him.

 

“Nothing for you to worry about Rosie.” Varric sighed as he brought the mug to his lips. “Just some misinformed detectives who have too little to do. They shouldn’t bother us again.” She hummed in response before looking to the door they had left through a moment earlier. “Or would you would like that strapping young man to come back and bother you?” He couldn’t keep the amusement from leaking through in his voice.

 

“I-I-I-” The stammering got worse as she shook her head. “N-N-Not if he was bothering y-you.”

 

Varric laughed. “Oh Rosie, what are we going to do with you. Listen, if he stops in again I’ll help you talk with him. Least I can do for causing you trouble.”

 

“Oh!” Roisin exclaimed before digging into the front pocket of her apron, pulling out a letter and handing it to Varric. “Hawke said this came for you. I figured you would like to enjoy it with your coffee.”

 

“You’re too good to me.” She beamed as she handed the letter over, and Varric couldn’t help but feel a swoop of excitement as he saw the slanted writing, addressing it to ‘ _Rogue_.’

 

“Same could be said to you, Varric.” Roisin’s grin was infectious and Varric returned it with enthusiasm.

 

“Come check on me in an hour kid. I’ve got a letter to enjoy.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

_**4th of August; 9:42** _

__

_**Rogue,** _

__

_**The happiness I felt upon seeing your letter helped to break through the black cloud that work has placed me in. It has been a rather rough week.** _

__

_**I know we agreed to not tell each other much about our lives, but there are times like today I wish I could break that vow we made. I’m sure you understand, as everyone would, annoying people whose only goal in life is to make you miserable. That is what I am dealing with. All I want to do is reach across the table and wrap my hands around his throat to wipe the dumb smile off his face. Unfortunately that would result in my job being terminated, so I resist the urge.** _

__

_**What hurts the most is that I thought this person was rather remarkable. Up until they opened their mouth. Perhaps you have some idea how to deal with this person? You seem to know how to deal with people. I’m afraid I don’t seem to be very approachable outside of letters. Would you even like me if we were talking face to face?** _

__

_**Ugh, you don’t need to hear about that from me. You have other things to think about and there are more interesting topics to talk about. I enjoyed your recent recommendation of ‘** The Champion of Kirkwall **,’ but I’m not sure I believed that the author had any sort of editor for that work. Fighting a dragon in an abandoned mine while saving her lover from crazed Templars? Fantasy aside, it seemed rather far-fetched. Please let me know if there are any more works like that, I couldn’t put it down.**_

__

_**I look forward to hearing from you soon.** _

__

_**Yours,** _

_**Seeker** _

 

|||

 

There was nothing more unappealing to Varric as walking in and finding his seat at the cafe taken. This time even more so as it was occupied by that damn detective.

 

“Look, I’ve got nothing to say-”

 

“I do.” Cassandra interrupted. “Another crime was committed. This one was a murder.”

 

Varric felt his stomach drop. “And this is my fault because…?”

 

“Its not your fault,” Cassandra snapped. “But a page from your _Hard in Hightown_ series was found at the scene, every detail copied to the letter. Do you still not believe me?”

 

“There’s been nothing on the news about this,” Varric tried to reason.

 

“Would you like to be the source of panic all across the city?” Cassandra crossed her arms. “We are keeping the details as secret as possible. For your sake.”

 

“Gee thanks, means a lot there detective.”

 

His natural reaction to stress was sarcasm; unfortunately a trait which Cassandra did not share.

 

“Will you be serious Mr. Tethras? People are beginning to die and we need your cooperation.”

 

Varric let out a heavy sigh. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

 

“For starters, a list of all the crimes committed across all your novels. In detail would-”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Varric threw up his hands, his frustration mounting. “There are hundreds of crimes I write about, how do you expect me to remember them all?”

 

“Perhaps you can read your own damn books for the information!” Cassandra shouted, drawing the eyes of everyone in the cafe to her. She shook her head in frustration, her close-cropped hair fluttering about.

 

“Well if you didn’t want people to know what you were on about, I’m afraid you failed there detective.” Varric crossed his arms in mimicry of her stance. “Want to try for something a little more, I don’t know, sane?”

 

Before Cassandra could retort, Hawke had made her way to the table. She gave them both a cheery grin. “Hello, is something the matter?”

 

“Detective Pentaghast was just heading out I believe,” Varric suggested with a pointed look at the scowling Cassandra. “We can’t seem to agree on things today. Perhaps some other time?”

 

“It would be my pleasure Mr. Tethras,” Cassandra gritted out.

 

“Please, Varric is fine. Mr. Tethras is my father.” Varric gave her a mock salute as she stood to leave. The black look in her eyes said everything before she made a measured exit. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as the door closed behind her.

 

Hawke gave him a moment before asking “What was that all about?”

 

“Shit is happening and the detective thinks I’m either behind it, have a hand in it, or both.” Varric placed his bag on the table and took the seat Cassandra had vacated moments earlier. “Nothing you need to worry about Hawke.”

 

She didn’t look like she believed him. “Are you sure this has nothing to do with…” She trailed off as she unconsciously began to spin her wedding band.

 

“Blondie’s activism isn’t what this is about. At all,” Varric said as he pulled out his computer. “Just some idiot using my works as inspiration, apparently.” He sighed, trying to put out of his mind the fact that someone had died because of his story. He couldn’t dwell on it.

 

“Do I need to break out the secret coffee?” Hawke said with a worried smile. _Maker, his best friend didn’t deserve to feel that way about him._

 

“As long as secret coffee still means whiskey, then yes. Now may be a good time.”

 

With a laugh, Hawke nodded and left him, no doubt grabbing the bottle she kept under the counter for special occasions where either of them felt worked up enough where coffee wasn’t enough. Varric hummed as he booted up his computer, hoping writing would take his mind off the conversation he had with Cassandra, though, deep down he knew it wouldn’t.

 

|||

 

_**29th of August; 9:42** _

__

_**Seeker,** _

__

_**A few letters ago you mentioned wanting to strangle someone, well, at the time I probably just laughed about that sentiment. For all I write, I’m not a dramatic person. Just someone who likes to exaggerate some.** _

__

_**Now I can say I know what you mean.** _

__

_**There are apparently people on this earth who want nothing more to antagonize us two. Its a shame we had to find them, but now that we have reached this point together we can work to figure out how to make sure they don’t get any satisfaction from bothering us in their ways. Perhaps we can introduce them to one another and hook them up? They would probably get along really well. Or kill one another. Maybe we can hope for the latter.** _

__

_**Speaking of introducing people, what would you say to meeting? I know, I know you said at the start to keep it secret and low key, but, damn it Seeker, we’re grown adults and I want to meet you. If you don’t want to, just say so and I’ll drop it, but I get the suspicion that you may be a little interested as well. Just...let me know in your next letter. I’m thinking Herald’s Rest Bistro, if you need to be bribed with some good food and an impressive wine list.** _

__

_**Rogue** _

__

__


	4. Chapter 4

“This is it. This is the day,” Varric beamed as he took the steaming mug of coffee from Hawke. “Today we are finally going to meet.”

 

Hawke smiled back. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so excited. Not even when your first book was published.”

 

“Yes well, _Swords and Shields_ hasn’t exactly been my masterpiece, but this, this is something!” Varric didn’t even try to pretend he was going to write today, his bag sitting on the chair next to him. The letter that the Seeker had written stating the date and time of their meeting was safely tucked in an inside pocket.

 

“Look at you, as giddy as a schoolboy. Maker this is far better than when you were with-” Hawke broke off her sentence with a cough. “Well, you know.”

 

In all honesty, since the letters had become more routine in his life, Varric found himself thinking less and less about. He wondered if he could tell the Seeker that? That she had helped him heal from such a traumatic life experience? Perhaps that was better left for the second time they met.

 

“I really appreciate you coming to help me out with this Hawke.”

 

“What can I say, wing-woman extraordinaire here.” She gave him a wink. “Now I’m going to meet you at-”

 

Hawke was interrupted by the door opening and a rather unhappy pair of cops walking in. She stood straighter, causing Varric to turn and see what was coming towards them. _For the love of…_

 

“Mr. Tethras, we are here to take you in for questioning,” the tall officer said, looking down to where Varric was leaning against the counter.

 

“And if I don’t want to go?” It might not have been the best thing for him to say, but he was not in the mood for whatever these men were here for.

 

“We are under strict orders from Detective Pentaghast to bring you into the station for questioning. Should you chose not to come quietly, we will have to use force.”

 

“Varric…” Hawke’s face was pale as she looked at him. He imagined his face had about as much color as hers, but he tried to give her a smile.

 

“I’ll be back at six for you know what. I’m sure these gentlemen will have given me a ride back by then.” Varric looked up to the officers. “Correct?”

 

The shorter one shrugged. “We’ll do our best. Detective Pentaghast didn’t seem to be in a good mood.”

 

“When is she ever,” Varric muttered under his breath, before waving to the officers. “Lead the way boys.”

 

The drive to the station was quiet. The officers were polite but kept to themselves; when they arrived at the steps to the station, he was directed to which room he was to meet Cassandra, the officers not even bothering to get out of the car to escort him in. He had a moment, a moment where he considered whether or not he could run for it -- but his hopes were dashed when he saw Cullen waiting at the top of the stairs for him.

 

“Well this is a nice welcome,” Varric quipped as Cullen opened the door for the two of them. “Care to enlighten me why I’m here?”

 

Cullen scrubbed a hand across his face, drawing Varric’s attention to the dark circles under his eyes. “There was...another crime.”

 

“That...does not give me much to go on Curly.”

 

A chuckle came from Cullen. “Curly? My hair I’d wager. I haven’t had much time to sleep these past few nights. Or shower.”

 

“Well at least you don’t smell like it. Deodorant is a wonderful invention.” Another chuckle from Cullen made Varric feel that he had at least one person in his corner. They arrived at the room and Varric placed his hand on the doorknob. “One last thing, can you make sure I’m out of here by six -- I’ve got plans for the evening.”

 

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll do my best, but Cassandra has a lot of questions for you and is bent on getting answers for them. Just...try to not be too loud. I want to catch a nap at my desk.”

 

“I make no promises.” Varric said before he made his way through the door finding a thoroughly angry Cassandra waiting for him.

 

“Sit,” was all she bit out.

 

“No ‘Hello Varric, how are you today?’” He moved to the chair as relaxed and slow as possible. He even took his time sitting down. “Detective Pentaghast, I thought you were better than that.”

 

The disgusted noise she made was so full of frustration that Varric wondered what could have put her in this mood. Cassandra didn’t even say a word to him, just threw a folder down at the table with enough force to send it sliding over to him. Unsure of what to expect, he lifted the corner to find the remains of a crime scene and a dead elf arranged in a horrifyingly familiar way.

 

“This was found last night. Amerta Asine. Twenty-three. Her sister called in that she was missing and when we went to search her office building, we found this.” Cassandra seemed to be holding back her rage with sheer willpower. “Do you recognize the set up.”

 

“Yes.” He couldn’t find it in him to make light of this situation.

 

“When did this happen?”

 

“In the books?” Varric looked up at Cassandra. “It hasn’t. This is in an unpublished work.” He felt his stomach roll at the thought that someone was now into his documents and committing crimes _that weren’t even in print_.

 

“Someone close to you must be doing this then.” Cassandra paced on her end of the table as Varric shook his head.

 

“No one has access to my computer but me.”

 

“And yet someone was able to commit a crime that didn’t exist!” she shouted as she slammed her hands on the table. Varric felt his control over his emotions snap at her words.

 

“And how is that something that indicts my friends?”

 

“This Hawke of yours and her husband Anders are well known to be involved in-”

 

“You will not accuse them on baseless speculation!” Varric roared, his frustration forcing him to his feet to stand and defend his loved ones honor.

 

“Baseless?” Cassandra let out a bitter laugh. “The files we have on them, on Anders alone-”

 

“Then you would know that killing isn’t where his actions lie. He’s a doctor for Makers sake. Don’t you dare accuse-”

 

“I will say what I must to get the truth-”

 

“Right, the truth!” Varric said, voice mocking. “Because _the truth_ would have saved this girls life! _The truth_ is I know nothing about what powers this murderer, and _the truth_ is that there is no one in my life that would do such a thing!”

 

They stared across the table at one another, breathing heavy. It was minutes later that Cassandra seemed to calm herself down enough to speak at a normal volume. “If you will not cooperate, I will continue to hold you until we receive a statement from you, as well as any friends close enough to you to have access to your computer.”

 

“That is such bullshit.” Varric swore at her. The words seemed to roll off her as she turned to the door.

 

“Please let us know when you are ready to talk.” With those words Cassandra opened the door and walked out. The sound of a lock sliding into place seemed to seal his fate. Varric was stuck.

 

Every hour for the next few hours, someone would check on him, see if he anything to say (he didn’t), if he needed anything to drink (water was fine), and as he watched the clock tick. He was unsurprised when Cassandra reappeared, this time with another man behind her.

 

“Mr. Tethras, hello.” The man gave him a small nod. “I am Sergent Barris, the supervisor for this case. I have a few questions to ask you.”

 

“If you’re here to talk bad about my friends, I have nothing to say to you.” Varric turned his gaze to the ceiling as Barris gave a small cough.

 

“I am sorry for the earlier questioning. Tension has been running high as we have no leads on this suspect. Detective Pentaghast will be talked to about interrogation protocol.” The disgusted noise Cassandra made was music to Varric's ears. “I just want to know who might possibly have access to your documents and whether or not you have any idea who could be behind this all.”

 

“The documents are only on my computer and shared with my editor on a need to know basis. There is no one in my life who would commit acts such as these.” Varric said with confidence.

 

“In that case, Detective Pentaghast, I see no reason why this man should not be released. If you do want to hold him, he would be under your supervision for as long as you were to hold him,” Barris stated. “If you would like-”

 

“That won’t be necessary Sergeant.” Cassandra said in a rush. “I am afraid I have made plans for the evening and I am unable to back out.” She shot a look at Varric, her eyes narrowed. “I would like to question him at a later time to see if there is any extra information he can give up.”

 

“Of course Detective. Mr. Tethras, good evening.” The two left the room as abruptly as they had appeared, leaving Varric shocked at how fast the events turned.

 

A knock at the door a moment later revealed Cullen peering into the room. “Still need that ride?” he inquired. Varric let out a dry laugh as he got up from his chair, stretching as muscles protested his movements.

 

“Sure do Curly. Thanks,” he said with sincerity. “I think you’re in luck as well. Roisin should be working the counter when we arrive.” Varric turned away to give Cullen his own private blush.

 

_Time is no longer on my side_ , Varric thought as they made their way out of the station. In less than an hour now he would be meeting with the Seeker and, though the afternoon had put a damper on his mood, he couldn’t help but feel the spark of excitement rekindle. Soon he would see just who he had been talking with these past months.

 

|||

 

"Alright Hawke, what do you see?" Varric asked as he paced around on the sidewalk. The two of them had found the little bistro with no trouble and had set themselves up by the front windows where they could, every so often, turn and try and find the Seeker. Hawke was more helpful than him, using her height to glance over the heads of the people sitting by the window, as he pretended to not notice the odd looks they were giving them. Varric wasn't nervous, no, that would be insane. He was just...confirming that his acquaintance (more than acquaintance) had shown up. It would be foolish of him to walk into the restaurant and find that she wasn't there.

 

"You're impatient." Hawke chuckled as she resumed her searching through the restaurant after giving the window patrons a little wave of apology. "I think, yeah! There's your book and...some flower I guess?"

 

"It's a daisy Hawke. That's what she said she'd have." His heart began a rather frantic tattoo on his chest, something he would not freely admit. "She's in there then? Shit Hawke, you're the best."

 

She turned her face and grinned down at him. "What are friends for?" Hawke returned to looking in the window. "Now go in there and sweep-" Her pep talk halted as she spun around, facing away from the window.

 

"Uh, Hawke?"

 

"She turned around." Hawke said, voice low and strained.

 

"So you saw her? Shit Hawke, details then."

 

The look on her face should have been his first clue that something was amiss. She seemed to be waffling between amusement and apprehension. "Well, uh, she looks nice. Good looking, I mean."

 

"I know you're not a writer, but even you can do better than that." Varric laughed. "Height, hair color, size of her-"

 

"Do you think that detective is good looking?" She cut in before he could finish the sentence. "The one who has been coming into the shop to talk with you." Hawke was turned away again to the window.

 

Varric let out an exasperated sigh. "Interrogates me more like it. I don't see what Cassandra has to do with...this..." He trailed off as, in a moment of shattering clarity, he saw where the conversation was headed.

 

"What you think of her is going to be very important here, Varric."

 

"Are you shitting me?" Something was lurching in his chest. It could have been his heart, his stomach, his _Maker damned kidneys_ for all he could tell. All Varric could focus on was the maelstrom of emotions that reared up as Hawke gave him a slow shake of her head. He let out a hollow laugh and walked to the street corner, away from the window. Away from where the Seeker, no, Cassandra, was waiting for him.

 

"You've got to admit, even you couldn't have come up with a hook so clever," Hawke sighed as she walked to where he was now pacing. "Question now is what you are going to do."

 

That was the real question. The whirl of emotions he felt had settled and the feelings of anger and betrayal were overwhelming all others. "Nothing. I'm going to do nothing. After the way she's treated me, she deserves this."

 

"Deserves being stood up by someone she's grown to care for?" Hawke sounded skeptical. "You may not like the woman, but I think she deserves better than that."

 

"Are you standing up for her?" Varric barked out a laugh. "After you know how she interrogated me about everything and everyone in my life? Maker, she was so convinced it was you or Blondie behind it all that I was locked in a room with her for an entire day. No, let this knock her down some." He sighed. "Now I'm going to find a place to get really drunk and try and forget about this whole mess. See you tomorrow Hawke."

 

She looked like she wanted to say something more, but when she caught the look on Varric's face Hawke only sighed. "Call me if you need me. Take care."

 

Varric didn't watch her leave, instead choosing to kick at a stone on the ground, trying to decide which bar was closest. After a few minutes of mental deliberation he settled on risking seeing people at the Hanged Man, but as he turned to make his way down the street he saw the front door of the restaurant and abruptly decided to walk in.

 

He strode with purpose, though he kept his posture relaxed. ' _Let's see how Cassandra reacts when she finds out the mysterious letter writer is in fact the person she hates the most_.' The thought gave him a spark of cruel pleasure.

 

"Well Cassandra, fancy meeting you here." Varric drawled as he arrived at the table. Her body language said it all, how shocked she was to see him with her open mouth, a hint of rage in her eyes, and her hands flying to grab at the book and flower on the table.

 

"Varric!" Her cheeks were turning more pink by the moment.

 

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" He made a pointed glance to where the book and flower disappeared into her lap. "And here I thought you were married to your job."

 

"That...is none of your business!" Cassandra was flustered now. ' _Good_.' Varric couldn't help but think.

 

"And was that... Maker, I believe I saw _Shields and Swords_ across the cover. I had no idea you were a fan." He sat himself in the chair that was always meant for him and leaned back, waiting for Cassandra to let loose.

 

"I-I am waiting for someone to arrive Varric. Please," the pleading in her voice caught him by surprise, "Please go."

 

"You have something against me Cassandra?" Varric pasted a grin on his face. "I would never have guessed. Who is it you're meeting anyway? Book club member, a lover, though, that would be-"

 

"A friend." Cassandra interrupted, the pink blush now being replaced with a red tinge that told him she was getting upset. "A friends I have never met, who has been nothing but a gentleman to me, and who is on his way, so please, Varric, I'm asking you to just go."

 

Varric rolled his shoulders, but made no other indication of leaving. "Well I'll just stay and keep you company while you wait for him. I'm sure he has a good reason for not being here."

 

"I'm sure he does," Cassandra said with a sigh, her own shoulders sagging some. Varric blinked as she continued to quietly sit across from him, playing with the stem of her water glass and avoiding looking over. He had expected her to yell and create a scene with him staying, not sit passively with such a sad look on her face. The realization that she was probably as excited as he has been to meet their letter writer hit him hard. He needed to leave. Now.

 

A waiter had arrived at the table and looked between the two of them, sizing up the situation. “Is this who you were waiting for Miss?”

 

Before Cassandra could say anything Varric let out a small cough and rose from his seat. "Ah no, I just needed a place to rest my stumpy legs. Sorry about this all Cassandra. " She eyed him as he moved to the side of the table, ignoring the waiters bemused look. "Hope your date shows." Okay, so maybe he was still a little bitter about the night. Cassandra nodded, and returned to toying with her water glass as Varric made an expedient retreat.

  
Once back outside he began the walk back to his apartment. There was much to do.


	5. Chapter 5

~~_**2nd of Kingsway; 9:42** _ ~~

~~_**  
**_~~

~~_**Dear Cassandra,** _ ~~

~~_**  
**_~~

~~_**Yes, I know who you are. Surprised? Well maybe you should have treated me better--** _ ~~

__

_**|||** _

__

~~_**2nd of Kingsway; 9:42** _ ~~

~~_**  
**_~~

~~_**Dear Seeker,** _ ~~

~~_**  
**_~~

~~_**I was in a horrific accident on my way to dinner, sent to the hospital and had temporary amnesia--** _ ~~

__

_**|||** _

__

~~_**3rd of Kingsway; 9:42** _ ~~

~~_**  
**_~~

~~_**Seeker,** _ ~~

~~_**  
**_~~

~~_**This is Varric, you know, the shit head who--** _ ~~

__

_**|||** _

__

_**3rd of Kingsway; 9:42** _

__

_**Seeker,** _

__

_**Nothing I write will be able to express my apology properly. You should see the recycle bin near me. It’s overflowing.** _

__

_**I know you thought me a better man than I have shown myself to be. I wish I could write the words that would make you believe that I’m not the scum of the earth who stood you up for no reason other than I was not strong enough.** _

__

_**I wouldn’t blame you if you tore my letter up into tiny pieces without even reading it, but in case you’re willing to give me another chance, let me say with utter sincerity: I am sorry.** _

__

_**If you’re still reading (Maker knows why you would be), you have every right to look forward to sending me a letter with all the terrible names you want to call me. I’m looking for creativity here, Seeker, so don’t hold back.** _

__

_**Yours,** _

_**The Mabari-Breathed Rogue (First one is on me)** _

 

|||

 

Standing in the lobby of the police station made Varric feel like he was in trouble, no matter that he wasn't. He had given his name to the clerk, was told the detective was out (but was returning soon), and was waved aside for the next person in line.

 

 _Wonder if I could sue for discrimination. These places never have chairs suited for Dwarves_ , Varric though as he toed the ground beneath his seat. The room was nothing to write about, stark white walls, a few desks, and a steady line of people coming and going. To amuse himself, he began making up stories of those who came in. If nothing else, he could at least come up with some new characters for his books.

 

After deciding the elf that had walked into an officer on accident (jewel thief, the office was her point of contact and secret lover) Varric saw Cassandra walk through the doors. She was alone, he was glad to see, and it looked as if she had been outside doing...whatever it is that detectives do. Her hair was tousled from the breeze and she looked, well, happy. That changed when she caught sight of him. Before she could walk through the doors that said “OFFICERS ONLY” Varric lept to his feet and intercepted her.

 

“Detective Cassandra.” He kept his voice light, trying to not spook her. She looked ready to bolt, but he kept talking. “You had asked me, ah, last week? If I could help with the investigation.”

 

“Yes, I seem to recall your words were ‘ _Over my dead body_.’” Cassandra said, her arms crossed over her chest. “It would appear you are still alive.”

 

“Was that a joke? Because that was a good one.” He put on his most winning smile.

 

“What are you doing here Varric?”

 

Charm was not the way to go in this conversation it seemed. “Look, you asked me for my help and I was...difficult. Yes, I know,” Cassandra looked like she wanted to interrupt, “Understatement. I realize now that I shouldn’t have been so rude so I brought you this.” He offered her the folder he had brought with him.

 

Cassandra spared a glance down, scowl still on her face. “What is this?”

 

“Call it a peace offering. We’re not exactly on the best of terms, another understatement, but I would like to work things out with you. Maker knows I have no idea what is going on with this criminal, but I realize now I should probably be helping, lest I’m his next victim.” Cassandra still had not taken the folder, but her scowl was turning into a more bemused look.

 

“Why are you helping now?” His change of heart seemed to confuse her, and Varric chose his next words with care. She was still in the dark about who he was to her.

 

“Because its the right thing to do, and,” He hesitated, “You seem like you could use a friend. Or someone who gives a shit and wants to help.”

 

“If this is because of the restaurant-”

 

“Yes, in part.” Varric wasn’t one for sugar coating things. “But you have to admit, the more people helping means the faster this guy can be put away. Something I think we can both agree on?”

 

The folder was removed from his hand and Cassandra flipped it open. “Is this-”

 

“Every crime and murder ever committed in my novels, yes. Past, present, and near future. Just...don’t let it get around.” He chuckled. “Don’t want to give anyone any ideas. Or spoilers.” Varric watched as the corners of Cassandra’s mouth twitched upwards for a brief moment.

 

“I would never do such a thing. Thank you, Varric.” She closed the folder and nodded at him. “Cullen and I will take a look and contact you if we have any questions.”

 

“You know where to find me. Also, let Cullen know that Roisin is trying out some new recipes soon and would love some input.”

 

Cassandra let out a snort, causing Varric to grin. “I’m sure he will be glad to hear that. We will see you soon I’m sure.”

 

“Looking forward to it Detective.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

_**18th of Harvestmere; 9:42** _

__

_**Rogue,** _

__

_**As you can see I have run out of creative names to call you. Were you keeping track? I am interested to know which one was your favorite. I know I don’t have the flair of creativity that you do (I think I’m still blushing from some of your generous titles for me), but I tried.** _

__

_**In other news, do you remember the person I mentioned...I would say two months ago by now? The one who I was convinced made my life a living hell? It’s been strange...I don’t feel that he is harboring those feelings anymore. The past few weeks have had us working together under unpleasant circumstances, but I find myself enjoying his company more and more. Even after we are done discussing work, we talk about things over coffee. Mostly about my smitten co-worker who is too nervous to talk to the girl he likes, but he is an author, and has much to say about his works. It’s fascinating to hear about his process.** _

__

_**My apologies, Rogue, I am rambling. Suffice to say, we are becoming friends, I believe. As someone who can count their close friends on one hand, it is...nice to have someone else to open up to.** _

__

_**That being said, I am wondering if you had any luck with your annoyance from some months ago? I hope that has managed to work itself out.** _

__

_**I look forward to your next letter.** _

__

_**Sincerely,** _

_**Seeker** _

 

|||

 

“So are you ever going to tell her now?” Hawke looked at Varric over the top of his computer. Her only answer was a shrug. “She seems to be spending more time here. Have you already told her?”

 

“Nope.”

 

Hawke sighed before reclining back in her chair. “Am I going to get more than one word answers about this?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

The growl of frustration she let out was almost enough to make him laugh, but he was just getting to an important scene in his novel and concentration was key.

 

“And speak of the devil…” Varric glanced up and saw Cassandra walking in, trailed by Cullen who looked far more interested in finding someone who was not Varric. He gave a wave as Hawke moved from her chair. “I’ll leave the two of you alone then.”

 

“Se-Cassandra what brings you in today.” He tried to look relaxed as he kicked himself for almost letting his secret slip. Damn Hawke for putting it into his mind. Noting where he was leaving off, he closed his laptop to focus his attention onto Cassandra. He was rewarded with an eye roll.

 

“Cullen said he was hungry and needed coffee. How surprising we were only a block away from the shop when he felt the need to tell me this.”

 

“Imagine that.” Varric glanced over to the counter where Cullen and Roisin were standing and talking to one another. It seemed to him that no food or drink was being exchanged. “When do you think he’ll get the nerve to ask her out?”

 

“Sooner rather than later, I hope.”

 

“And  have you miss the chance to talk with me? I’m wounded.” He grasped at his chest and placed a hand dramatically on his forehead. The smile that played at Cassandra’s mouth made his heart beat a little faster.

 

“You have been much better company these past few visits. I must thank you for that.”

 

“No problem.” A silence settled over them, but this one was far comfortable than even a month prior. Varric took the time to study Cassandra more, taking in the scar on her cheek (how had he missed that?) to the way her hands twisted together as they sat together (hands that looked rough, but still delicate).

 

“Can I ask you a question, Varric?”

 

“I believe you just did.” The disgusted noise she made was worth the tired joke.

 

“Have you ever been in a long distance relationship?”

 

The question surprised him. “What brought this on?” Her cheeks flushed.

 

“I’m...Not seeing someone, but there’s someone I talk to. Often enough that I feel like we have some sort of connection.”

 

“Hmm.” Varric stuck with a noncommittal noise, afraid anything else might cause his heart to leap from his chest.

 

“And I guess I’m not sure if it would work out if it moved away from our...comfortable present.”

 

“Well, how do you feel about them? Thats a good place to start.”

 

Cassandra looked at her hands, now twisting together with nerves. “They seem like someone I would very much like to meet. We were supposed to, that night you found me in the restaurant.” Varric did his best to look interested enough without shouting at her to tell him all she was feeling. “They never showed up and I had thought that maybe I had done something wrong.”

 

“Doubtful.” Varric interjected. “They were probably too cowardly to face you and your amazing personality.”

 

“That is kind of you to say.” Cassandra said with a chuckle. “But unlikely. Their next letter was full of apologies, but no excuses. I respected them a lot for that. I guess, if I tell them I want to meet again, would the same thing happen. I was...not heartbroken. That’s ridiculous. But I was sad to not have met them. I would rather not feel that way again.”

 

Varric nodded. “Well you have two options. Take a chance or don’t. Seems to me that you may have developed feelings for them?” The small nod she gave caused him to feel an overwhelming giddiness, but he pressed on. “Just follow your feelings then. I can’t imagine they’d lead you astray.”

 

It would have been a more heartwarming moment had Cassandra’s phone not began to chirp. She looked at it and sighed, pushing her chair away from the table. “Work calls.” She waved down Cullen who had been leaning towards Roisin in a rather romantic way. If looks could kill, well, Varric believed Cassandra would have at least broken an arm with the glare she received. “Thank you, Varric.”

 

He was taken by surprise. “For what?”

 

“For listening. I’ll think over your words.” Cassandra smiled down at him, a true, genuine smile. “You’ve become a good friend.”

 

“Its what I’m good at.” Varric tried to not let the word _friend_ take root. After all, everything prior had been about how she was falling for her mysterious letter writer. _Falling for Rogue at the very least_. “Take care Cassandra.”

 

“You too.” She gave a final nod and left the cafe, Cullen trailing after her like a sad puppy. After they had left Varric simply sat, running over everything in his head, trying to figure out just how deep he was when it came to Cassandra, and, failing that, just how was she going to take it when she found out who he was. The thoughts became so twisted, Varric realized his writing wasn’t going to be resumed with any amount of clarity.

 

_Damn it._

 

|||

 

~~_**9th of Firstfall; 9:42** _ ~~

~~_**  
**_~~

~~_**Seeker,** _ ~~

~~_**  
**_~~

~~_**What would you say to meeting again. Yes, I haven’t exactly shown myself to be reliable, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Every day I go to the cafe and hope there’s a letter waiting for me. And when you actually come into the shop? I think someone should take me to the doctor because my heart skips a beat. Your eyes get this sparkle in them when you laugh that makes you look even more beautiful, especially because I know it was me that caused it. Don’t get me started about the rest of your face either, I don’t think I can fit it into one envelope.** _ ~~

__

_**What the hell do you think you’re writing Varric? Shit, I can’t send this, she’ll kill me.** _

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

‘ _Thinking of telling Cassandra about the letters, what do you think?_ ’

 

Even putting those words down and into physical space made Varric’s heart beat uncomfortably fast. They had just spent the afternoon together at the cafe, discussing what would be the next course of action with the killer on the loose. It had been a quiet month, but Cassandra believed that it only meant it was the calm before the storm. Varric joked with her some and was rewarded with a smile, a simple gesture that should not have made him feel as giddy as he was. The walk home was spent in thought and a carefully worded message to Hawke.

 

"Varric, Varric Tethras?" A voice called from behind Varric as his finger pressed send. He glanced behind him to find a short, stocky man holding a well worn copy of Hard in Hightown. The man was fidgeting from one foot to the other as Varric sighed and turned.

 

"Look I appreciate you're a fan-"

 

"I'm your biggest fan." The man interrupted with a furious nod.

 

"... Right. Anyways, I've had a long day, and I really just want to-" Varric was cut off one again as the man pulled a very sharp, and very wicked looking knife out from behind him.

 

"Mr. Tethras, I know this is forward of me since we have only just met but, please, I need to talk with you.” As if in a dream, Varric dragged his finger across his screen and hit send as quick as possible before the man caught sight of the phone. “I’ll take that. We don’t want any distractions. This is going to be your magnum opus, what you write tonight.”

 

“And what exactly will that be? I’m still working on the next Shields and Swords instalment.” Varric felt himself being turned and the knife placed gently on his lower back, hard enough for him to feel the tip pressing through his clothes.

 

“I always liked the humor in your works Mr. Tethras.” The pressure on Varric’s back increased, moving him forward towards the doors of his building. “But tonight, tonight you will write a beautiful, moving piece that will make the masses weep with its beauty.” The man indicated that Varric was to let them in, which he wasn’t about to disagree with. He liked his blood staying inside his body.

 

They proceeded up the stairs and Varric was glad no one crossed their path. When he let them into his apartment the man locked the door behind them, took off his shoes, and moved Varric to the desk in the corner of the living room. “It’s amazing to see where all the magic gets done.” The man said in an awestruck voice.

 

“Actually the cafe is where the magic gets done. Here is where nothing gets done.”

 

“Oh yes, Skyhold Cafe. I love their coffee.”

 

If he wasn’t concerned for his life he would have laughed at the man. Of course he had to get the stalking murdering fan. Not the attractive and happy fans. An image of Cassandra popped into his head, and Varric said a prayer to any god that would listen to get him out of this so he could see her again.

 

“So champ-”

 

“Worthy. That's my name.”

 

“Right, Worthy.” Varric figured he would pretend this was some horrible dream, so that when he woke up he could have a good laugh about it all. “What is it I’m supposed to be writing?”

 

“Oh right!” Worthy seemed to light up once more. “I will need you to be writing the story of the death of the illustrious writer Varric Tethras.”

 

_If this is a dream I want to wake up right now_. “Seems a little strange to write about my own death, don’t you think?” He heard himself say as if from far away.

 

“Well, as your biggest fan, I want to make sure I follow canon.” Worthy had pulled up a chair besides Varric and was selecting a pen from the mug full of writing utensils before them. “The only requirement is it must be done with a knife, or things I can find in your apartment.”

 

At this Varric did laugh. “Maker, you’re shitting me aren’t you?” Worthy whipped his head up and stared deep into Varric’s eyes.

 

“It must be perfect Mr. Tethras. Please understand I want to experience your death how you write it, but I have no qualms gutting you right here and now.” His voice rose until he was yelling. “The only way this can end is with your death, one way or another.”

 

“Okay, okay!” Varric eyed the knife as it moved closer to his stomach with every exclamation from Worthy. “You’ve got it. Just...give me a moment. I need to get myself in a writing mental space.”

 

Worthy seemed to deflate, though the knife stayed close. “Of course Mr. Tethras. We have some time.”

 

_Maker I hope not_ , Varric thought as he began to write. He could feel Worthy’s eyes on him as he began to describe himself, setting the scene for what may be the last thing he ever wrote. With every sentence he felt his heart race faster until he wouldn’t have been surprised if it had leapt from his chest. When he paused to think of an appropriate way to describe the feel of a knife sliding between _his_ ribs (might as well make it fast if it came down to it), Varric thought he could hear the rustle of something from the hallway. _A neighbor most likely. I feel bad for the poor person who has to rent the room where I was murdered._

 

“Are you nearly finished Mr. Tethras?” Worthy tilted his head to read what Varric had written so far.

 

“Got someplace to be Worthy?” Varric’s voice was far lighter than he felt. “You know you can’t rush a good thing.”

 

“Ah, right.” The knife pressed hard into his side briefly before backing away. “Sorry.”

 

“No problem.” Varric muttered before returning to his writing. _Not much left here for me to do, just need to wrap up who finds my body and then it’s...well, all I wrote_. Another pause as he searched for a word and this time Varric heard the lock in his door clicking open. Where a moment ago he felt only resignation to his fate, now he felt a blinding surge of hope. He began to cough, making sure the final click of the lock was masked.

 

“Hey Worthy, I know it’s not in the story, but how would you feel about a final glass of something strong? A toast to your crowning moment.”

 

“If you didn’t write it then I’m not sure-”

 

Everything that followed happened so fast that Varric thought he was looking at snapshots after the fact.

 

_Snap._

 

Door is kicked open to reveal Cassandra and Cullen with three armed officers behind them.

 

_Snap._

 

Worthy turns to him, fury in his eyes, knife pulled back to stab.

 

_Snap._

 

Cassandra yelling at him to get down.

 

_Snap._

 

Kicking Worthy in the shin as he falls from the chair, the flash of a gun.

 

_Snap._

 

Worthy on the ground, grasping his injured arm as Cassandra, beautiful, warrior queen Cassandra, stands at the fore, gun drawn, fury in her eyes.

 

_Snap._

 

Cassandra making his way to him, fury replaced by concern and utter relief.

 

_Snap._

 

The next moments passed in a blur, as if to make up for how slow time passed during his rescue. By the time Varric regained his thoughts he was standing in front the couch, wrapped in a blanket with Cassandra (still beautiful) standing over him, waiting for him to start talking.

 

“So my message…”

 

“Hawke thought it weird you sent a text simply saying ‘ _Jello_.’” The corner of Cassandra’s mouth tilted up in a lopsided smile, causing Varric to groan. “And when she tried to input it into her phone it came out ‘ _Help_.’”

 

“Always glad Hawke was the smart one of our relationship.” Varric said sinking down into the plush cushions. Any longer on his feet and it would have resulted in him collapsing at Cassandra's feet. His heart was just beginning to return to a normal tempo. “I’m leaving that out of my next novel. Not nearly exciting enough.”

 

Cassandra hummed in amusement as she walked towards the bookshelf, to look and see if any of his works had been handled, Varric assumed. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. After a few moments Cassandra made a noise in the back of her throat, sounding like she had found something that offended all she stood for, if Varric had to put a descriptor on it. One eye opened to see her pulling a bundle from the shelves and looking at it in shock. His other eye snapped open as he recognised her handwriting on the outside of the stack of letters.

 

_Oh shit._

 

“Varric.” The tremor in her voice could have been many emotions, and Varric was not excited to find out which one.

 

“Cassandra, I can explain.”

 

The stack of letters slammed onto the table in front of him. He chanced a glance at the detective's face and found it flushed red in anger, her eyes shining with what looked to be unshed tears.

 

_Shit. Shit. SHIT._

 

“How long were you going to string me along?” Cassandra’s voice was quiet. “Was this all to laugh at me? _Was anything you said real?_ ” The last question she hissed out.

 

“I never meant to string you along!” Varric couldn’t believe that this was the conversation they were having. Not after she saved his life and he was so so certain that, no matter what, his revelation of being her correspondent would only lead to good things. Nothing ever seemed to go his way.

 

“You conniving little shit.” Cassandra choked out before turning on her heel and making a swift exit, brushing past Cullen who had walked through the door just moments ago. Cullen turned to watch her leave, his gaze lingering before looking back to Varric.

 

“What’s wrong with Cassandra?”

 

“Well Curly, I fucked up really bad.” Varric leaned back on the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to reign in his emotions as well. “If I could ask you to go over your questions as quick as you can so I can get my apartment back and get pissing drunk, I would really really appreciate it.”

 

Cullen opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to realize that anything he asked Varric about the situation he walked in on would be only be met with frustration. “As you like Varric. If you could just go over the events of your walk home I can get out of your hair quicker.”

  
Shoving aside the mounting guilt and the feeling that his heart was cracking in his chest, Varric took a deep breath and did what he did best. Tell a story to forget about his pain.


	8. Chapter 8

_**13th of Firstfall; 9:42** _

__

_**Cassandra,** _

__

_**I can explain everything. If you would write back, or come to the cafe we can talk things out, okay?** _

__

_**Varric** _

__

_**|||** _

__

_**22nd of Firstfall; 9:42** _

__

_**Cassandra,** _

__

_**Okay, so you probably threw away the first letter. Can’t blame you. Maybe you’ll open this one? We should really talk about this, and by that I mean I should tell you everything. I should have told you sooner, but...well, I was scared. Yes, you read that right. Scared. By the time we were on good enough terms to even be friendly to each other I didn’t want to lose that friendship.** _

__

_**Ugh, I’m not going to convey anything through words. Please come by the cafe to talk? I’ll buy you a whole cake so you can fling it at my face.** _

__

_**(Okay, maybe not. Roisin would probably kill me. Girls got a wicked punch I hear.)** _

__

_**Varric** _

__

_**|||** _

__

_**27th of Firstfall;  9:42** _

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_**Cassandra,** _

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_**Please talk to me. I miss you.** _

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_**Varric** _

 

|||

 

“How long has it been?” Roisin pushed a coffee cup filled to the brim towards Varric one quiet afternoon in the cafe. He looked slowly from the drink into her worried face.

 

“Three weeks.” He replied, his voice tired. “Three weeks and nothing from Cassandra.”

 

“Not even a letter?”

 

His laugh came out bitter. “Oh I’m sure she’s sworn off letter writing for the rest of her life after this fiasco.”

 

“Have you tried writing to her?” Roisin continued nonplussed by his reaction. Varric picked up the cup and sighed.

 

“I’ve written her multiple times, but nothing has come back.” The door on the bell signaled someone entering. “If I could just figure out where she lived, then maybe I could explain it in person.”

 

“I can help with that.” Cullen said from behind Varric. He looked up at the detective to see a slight blush dusting his cheeks. “I mean, I’m sorry I was listening in-”

 

“Would you do that? Would you help Varric out?” Roisin looked as if Cullen had just promised her the moon. Varric rolled his eyes. _Kids_.

 

“I-I would.” The color on Cullen’s cheeks turned even deeper.

 

“Okay, look, lovebirds,” Their matching blushes were rather cute, Varric noted, as he continued undeterred, “You can think of helping all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that Cassandra is likely going to kick me out of her apartment the moment she hears me knocking.”

 

“You’re creative Varric, I think you can overcome a door.” Roisin scoffed. Apparently spending time with Varric was bringing her out of her shell enough to banter with him. Would wonders never cease?

 

“Alright Curly, tell me where she lives. If I get thrown in jail, you’re the one posting bail.”

 

Cullen chuckled. “I’m sure what she would post you at would be too rich for my blood.” He grabbed a pen and wrote down an address before passing the scrap of paper to Varric. “I would appreciate if you kept my name out of this whole discussion, of course.”

 

“I make no promises.” Varric looked at the address and let out a loud laugh. “Shit, she gave me her address this whole time. Maker…”

 

“Let us know how it goes.” Roisin said, her green eyes shining with excitement. “I’m rooting for you.”

 

“Well, if this all goes well I’m going to expect something in return.” Varric took another sip of his coffee before sliding the still full cup back towards Roisin. He turned and walked past Cullen towards the door before turning around once more. “Or I’ll call in the favor now. Ask Roisin out, Curly. For all our sakes.” The sounds of their shock caused Varric to smile as he left the building, determined to track Cassandra down at any cost.

 

|||

 

After inputting the address into his phone, Varric was directed to a rather calm looking neighborhood, far from the hustle of the inner part of town. Trees lined the street and a couple of kids were running about and shouting at one another. When they breezed past him, Varric watched, surprised that Cassandra had found such a nice place to get away from her hectic job. He reached the front door of her building and stopped, trying to figure out how he could make it to her door without her calling the cops, or worse, ignoring him altogether.

 

On the directory he found the name of the person living below Cassandra (a D. Pavus. _Of course it would be Dorian_ ) and placed a call to him. After spending some time explaining that he was here to surprise his girlfriend (to which Dorian laughed  and laughed and laughed to the point where Varric wondered if he would have to call an ambulance for him), Varric found himself walking up the stairs, turning left down the hall, and standing in front of Cassandra’s door.

 

It was at this point that Varric began to have second thoughts. He could just...walk away. Right now. She would never know (Maker knew she didn’t want to speak to him ever again) and their lives could go on. _But they never really would, would they?_ He thought as he balled his hand into a fist, and raised it to knock. _Now that we know each other, have influenced each other these past months...nothing is actually the same is it?_

 

Three staccato tapps and he waited. For a frightful moment he worried that Cassandra was not even in, contrary to what Cullen had said about her spending her time off at home. Then there was the sound of feet padding towards the door, a lock sliding out of place, and the door opening to reveal Cassandra.

 

Varric watched as her face went from confusion, to shock, to anger in the span of mere moments. He had to act fast. “Hear me out Cassandra-”

 

“What are you doing in my apartment building?” Her voice cracked from disuse. Varric suspected that the time she had taken off was spent by herself, something he could not blame her for.

 

“A neighbor let me in. Your downstairs one.”

 

“If you are why I could hear Dorian cackling a few minutes ago, I’m going to call the cops on him.” She sounded more weary than angry, a sign Varric took as a good one.

 

“Well you could arrest me yourself if you’re willing to come off vacation to take care of me.”

 

“How did-” Her shock lasted a moment before she got a steely look in her eyes. ”Cullen. Cullen was at the shop and told you.” Cassandra sighed. “I’m going to talk with that man when I get back.”

 

“Not sure how effective that will be. Him and Roisin may finally be getting together, after a gentle kick from yours truly.”

 

“Coming from you, I doubt it was very gentle.”

 

Varric couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “Well, you know, whatever it takes. May I come in? I have some things about the case I want to discuss” Cassandra looked like she wanted to refuse, but after a moment she sighed and turned to head back into the apartment, giving him the go ahead to follow.

 

As they made their way down a short hallway, Varric looked around Cassandra's apartment, taking everything in as she walked back to the couch. The walls were painted a light blue, with pictures and awards hanging in neat rows. It wasn’t messy, which surprised him the least, but he was surprised to see her copy of _Swords and Shields_ laid open on the coffee table, its cover torn and bent. Signs it had been well loved. He swallowed as he prepared for whatever tirade Cassandra was to unleash on him.

 

"I'm on vacation Varric." She said, her tone tired. "If you want to talk about the case, you'll have to take it up with Cullen."

 

"That's really not why I'm here, Cassandra. I just said that to get into your apartment." He flashed her a grin. She continued to stare at her hands.

 

"Then I suppose there's nothing else to talk about then."

 

"Bullshit." His vehemence startled her into looking up. "We both know that's not true."

 

"What then? Have you come to laugh at me? The poor detective who can't get anyone to talk to her without resorting to...Foolish letters that only teenagers would write?"

 

The bitterness in her voice made Varric consider his next words carefully. "Seeker-" the use of her nickname seemed to startle her, eyes widening a fraction. "Over this I would never laugh at you. When we started writing I thought 'Yeah this is stupid. Who would ever want to talk with a hack writer dwarf whose only relationship ended in a hilariously bad fashion.’"

 

"I would never say you're a hack writer." Cassandra muttered under her breath. He smiled.

 

"I'll have you write a review for the next book then. It will do wonders for my ego."

 

"That doesn't need any more inflating." Cassandra was giving him a small smile. Varric spread his arms.

 

"This is where I was going though Cassandra! We started off as idiots and now? Banter! Friendship! Lo-" Varric snapped his mouth shut, but Cassandra had already picked up on his words.

 

"Love?" The word was quiet, breathy, words he would have never ascribed to the way Cassandra talked. They looked at each other, and the silence grew heavier as each moment passed.

 

"Well, uh, with such a...Good..." The number of times Varric stumbled over his words he could count on one hand, but this, this was the worst of all. "I mean, that is to say..."

 

"Are you serious?" Cassandra's voice was still no more than a whisper. "Do you honestly have feelings for me?"

 

Knowing his words would only come out confused and muddled, Varric took three purposeful steps towards where she sat, placed his hands on her cheeks and brought her mouth to his. She made a noise of surprise before relaxing, her lips softening and allowing him to deepen the kiss. They lost themselves in one another for a time, how long, Varric could not say. When they separated both were out of breath and he couldn't help but notice a faint glow on Cassandra's face.

 

"Was that an acceptable answer Seeker?" Varric said with a grin. Cassandra rolled her eyes.

 

"I don't know my Rogue." Varric felt his heart do a happy leap at how his alias rolled off her tongue. "I'm unsure if it was clear enough for me."

 

The laughter Varric let out was soon muffled by her grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to her, which he didn't mind. Perhaps after this he would propose ordering pizza, watching whatever movie Cassandra wanted, and then ignoring it in favor of more kissing. But that, he decided as she ran her fingers through his hair, eliciting a soft groan from him, could wait.

  
They had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I love hearing what people think either here or on tumblr (I'm musicaljinx over there). Until next time :>


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